


for i knew all along you were mine

by sevendeadlyfun



Category: My Mad Fat Diary
Genre: Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 16:05:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2818136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevendeadlyfun/pseuds/sevendeadlyfun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Turn the tape back and let it play from the beginning. Let all the little unnoticed harmonies and melodies play out again. Hear the tune with fresh ears.</i> Finn thinks about Chloe and Rae instead of crap reggae.</p>
            </blockquote>





	for i knew all along you were mine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [growlery](https://archiveofourown.org/users/growlery/gifts).



> Work title taken from [ Poem to an Unnameable Man](http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/241428) by Dorothea Lasky. This story is really just another excuse to share my feelings about pan/poly Finn, of which I have many.

Turn the tape back and let it play from the beginning. Let all the little unnoticed harmonies and melodies play out again. Hear the tune with fresh ears. With all that, is it still the same song as before? 

∞∞∞∞

He doesn’t bring out the beers. There’s nothing wrong with a brew on a warm day but he wants to really hear the music, not get wasted. He wants Rae and Chloe to hear the music. Even if Chloe’s turned up unexpected, he still wants to share this with her. Unexpected, he reflects as he pulls the record out of its sleeve, don’t mean unwanted.

Finn turns the music up. Better the steady thump of drum and the wail of guitar than letting them hear the furious pounding of his heart. He feels it banging like mad against the confines of his chest and he sucks in a deep breath to calm his nerves. Lucky him, they’re too busy sniping at one another to pay him much mind. He turns back to sneak a peek, lower lip caught between his teeth.

Chloe’s sprawled out across his bed while Rae slumps opposite her in the chair. All of sudden he don’t care about records. It’s like a fever dream or something because he swears he can see them both laid out together across his faded bedspread, waiting for him.

They aren’t. Not really. Course they aren’t. But he wonders about it. Wonders what it would be like to kneel at the side of his bed, two pairs of smooth legs dangling off the side, waiting for him.

His bedsprings squeak in protest and he jumps, turning to see Chloe flop dramatically over on to her back.

“Y’okay, Chloe?” he asks, sliding his gaze over to where Rae is sitting, arms folded and eyes firmly planted on the ceiling.

She huffs an answer that is more breath than words. The only word he actually understands is Rae and he just shakes his head. There’s naught he can do when the two of them are determined to take chunks out of each other.

Except maybe – he pulls the arm of the record player up with gentle hands (it would never do to scratch a record) and slides a mixtape in the cassette player.

“What’s this than,Finn?” Rae demands. “Thought we were here for some crap reggae?”

“Bit tired of that,” he says, shrugging a shoulder. “Thought something quieter might be nice.”

As Tracey Thorn starts singing in a thick soft voice, he wonders if he could ever actually say words like this to either of the girls - to both of them. Watching them from beneath his fringe, he wishes he could find good words, strong words, to say how he feels when he imagines them beside him in his bed; how he feels when he sees their hands clasped together, bodies pressed tight; how he feels watching Chloe watching Rae.

_And you can't change the way she feels but you could put your arms around her_

He gets it. He wants to tell her he gets it. Rae’s light is so bloody strong, it dazzles you and he thinks that Chloe spends a lot of time just trying to see Rae, to see if Rae likes her. He spends a lot of time just trying to see Rae.

The girls are quiet now, listening to the song, and he wanders over to sit on the floor between them. He belongs there, he thinks. They belong together.


End file.
